The D Games

Chapter 2

The alarm on my phone, blaring a random song, woke me up. I rolled over and snatched it up, quickly turning it off, desperately trying not to wake Amber. It was 5 AM, which meant it was far too early for me to deal with her.  

Amber Logen was my roommate. My extremely annoying roommate. She was one of those girls with way too many insecurities. She was constantly asking me if she looked fat, if her hair was too frizzy, or if I could see any of her many zits under her pounds of make-up. The answer to all was yes. She wasn't overly obese or anything, but she wore clothes far too small for her body and it gave her the most hideous muffin top, which is only good on an actual muffin.  

God had not graced her with lovely hair or skin, the slightest bit of humidity would cause her long, black hair to poof out like she had just stuck her hand in a light socket. Then there was her face, which she was constantly picking at. If the girl left the damn thing alone, she wouldn't have to use so much make-up, which was a whole other problem that we aren't getting in to. 

This extremely neurotic girl is who I had been sharing a room with since freshman year. Maybe if we had more privacy, I wouldn't hope for her to be transferred every damn day. We each had our own twin sized bed, on our own sides of the room, separated by a long rectangular night stand that we both shared. We each had our own dressers and closets, and shared a bathroom. If you ask me, it was way too much sharing. 

The only privacy I had was the bathroom, other than that, lovely Amber was always up my ass. Sometimes it even felt like she lived there, in my ass, because she doesn't believe in personal bubbles.  

"What time is it?" Amber groaned from her bed. Her voice came out hoarse and all I could see of her was the frizzy black afro she called hair. 

"Early, go back to sleep," I whispered, adding a silent prayer that she would comply. I mentally watched myself smothering her with a pillow while I waited for a response.

When Amber didn't speak again I let out a sigh of relief. I kicked off my over-stuffed black comforter and quietly climbed out of bed, headed for the bathroom. I didn't have to be at the interview room until seven, but I had gotten up early to give myself some time to look decent.  

This was the day we would take all the boys into the auditorium and announce the contestants and rules. I even had a small speaking part, hence the extra time. After being taken by surprise by Blane, I wanted to be on my game, and I definitely wanted to look good while doing it.  

After almost an hour in the shower, I let my naturally wavy hair air dry while I applied a thin layer of make-up, and then I put my contacts in. I didn't want any more comments on my glasses. I had never in my whole life felt dirtier than when a guy commented on my glasses. Did every male have a secret dirty Librarian fantasy? 

"Carlie! I really need the shower!" Amber said, pounding on the bathroom door.  The sound echoed of the thin white walls causing me to cringe. It was hard dealing with such a loud person so early in the morning.

I swung the door open and immediately wished I hadn't. Amber was standing there in a very tight white tank top and underwear; even the girl's underwear were too tight. Her hair was sticking out in every direction, and mascara was clumped in the corners of her eyes. These are the types of things that make me question her eyesight, like does she actually have it? 

"You really do need it," I smiled. I was never nice to the girl, but she always seemed to think that I was joking.  

"Oh, you're so ridiculous in the morning," She laughed. See what I mean? That was genuinely a mean thing for me to say, and she just laughed.  

I moved aside as Amber rushed into the bathroom, I then grabbed all my things and ran out of the room. The best part about my job with the club was that I was hardly ever in my room, meaning I was hardly ever around Amber. Hardly ever was still too much.